Bloodlines Page 0,98

You weren't ready - not after what you went through. Being with these vampires is confusing you. That's why I'm recalling you."

"What?"

"If I had my way, it'd be right now. Unfortunately, Zoe won't be ready for another two weeks. The Alchemists want her to undergo some testing before she gets her tattoo. Once she does, we'll send her in your place and get you... some help."

"Dad! This is crazy. I'm doing fine here. Please, don't send Zoe - "

"I'm sorry, Sydney," he said. "You've left me no choice. Please don't get into trouble in your remaining time."

He disconnected, and I stood in the hall, my heart sinking. Two weeks! Two weeks and they were sending Zoe. And me... where were they sending me? I didn't want to think about it, but I knew. I needed to stop this from happening. Wheels were already in motion. The tattoos, I suddenly thought. If I could finish my tests on the stolen substances and find out info about the blood supplier, I would earn the Alchemists' regard - hopefully enough to take away the taint that Keith had put on me.

And why had he done it? Why now? I knew he'd never wanted me along. Maybe he had just been biding his time, building up evidence against me until he could get me ousted in one fell swoop. I wouldn't let him, though. I'd bust open this tattoo case and prove who the stellar Alchemist was. I had enough evidence now to get their attention and would simply turn in what I had if nothing new came to light within a week.

The decision filled me with resolve, but I still had trouble sleeping when I went to bed later. My father's threat hung over me, as did my fear of the reeducation centers.

After about an hour of tossing and turning I finally dozed off. But even that was fitful and troubled. I woke up after only a few hours and then had to fall asleep all over again.

This time, I dreamed.

In the dream, I stood in Clarence's living room. Everything was neat and in place, the dark wood and antique furniture giving the space its usual ominous feel. The details were surprisingly vivid, and it was like I could even smell the dusty books and leather on the furniture.

"Huh. It worked. Wasn't sure if it would with a human."

I spun around and found Adrian leaning against the wall. He hadn't been there a moment ago, and I had a flash of that childhood fear of vampires appearing out of nowhere. Then I remembered this was a dream, and these kinds of things happened.

"What weren't you sure about?" I asked.

He gestured around him. "If I could reach you. Bring you here into this dream." I didn't quite follow what he meant and said nothing. He arched an eyebrow. "You don't know, do you? Where you are?"

"At Clarence's," I said reasonably. "Well, in reality I'm asleep in my bed. This is just a dream."

"You're half right," he said. "This is a spirit dream. This is real."

I frowned. A spirit dream. Since most of our information about spirit was sketchy, we had hardly anything on spirit dreams. I'd learned most of what I knew about them from Rose, who had been frequently visited by Adrian in them. According to her, the dreamer and the spirit user were actually together, in a meeting of the minds, communicating across long distances. It was hard for me to fully grasp that, but I'd seen Rose wake up with information she wouldn't have otherwise had. Still, I had no evidence to suggest I was really in a spirit dream now.

"This is just a regular dream," I countered.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Look around. Concentrate. Doesn't it feel different? Like a dream... but not like a dream. Not quite like real life either. Call it what you want, but the next time we see each other in the waking world, I'll be able to tell you exactly what happened here."

I looked around the room, studying it as he'd suggested. Again, I was struck by the vividness of even the smallest details. It certainly felt real, but dreams often did... right? You usually never knew you were dreaming until you woke up. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to still my mind. And like that, I felt it. I understood what he meant. Not quite like a dream. Not quite like real life. My eyes flew open.

"Stop it,"